Rainbows in the Storm

There is a beautiful passage in Chinua Achebe’s classic novel, ‘Things Fall Apart’ that describes the moment a plague of locusts descends on the people of Umuofia. The evocative nature of this sight always remained in my mind: the buzz of the locust cloud as it swarmed over the skies; the mass hiding the light of the sun behind their vast cloud; the sound of the creatures as they dropped down to earth:

‘At first, a fairly small swarm came. They were the harbin­gers sent to survey the land. And then appeared on the hori­zon a slowly moving mass like a boundless sheet of black cloud drifting towards Umuofia. Soon it covered half the sky, and the solid mass was now broken by tiny eyes of light like shining star dust. It was a tremendous sight, full of power and beauty.’

Why am I reminiscing on the poetic words of a great man? Well, the locusts’ cousins, the Mighty Ants, hit Usa River a few days ago. Sitting talking with a friend in the kitchen, we suddenly heard a battering against the windows and looked out to see swarms of little blighters furiously pushing against the screen trying to get into the light. As we watched, hundreds more descended, all frantically scrabbling around against the blinds, against the light outside, falling onto the floor. (Sadly my photograph was poor,so I borrowed another observer's shot to enlighten).

It was a moment of real energy in the atmosphere – such frenetic action of such little creatures. And as we watched they all, one by one, shook off their wings and emerged as crunchy little wriggly beasts. My amateur video, taken in my bedroom later that night, of a solitary little escapee is rather dark and rubbish, but you can see the incredible moment and intense power of the wing ejection (well, just about if you squint a bit!).

The next morning, the floors were piled high with wings aplenty; but no little bodies to be found. I suspect because of the invasion of the local hungry bird gang.

As well as waking up the next morning to the sight of snow-like wing drifts, I was also greeted with this little buddy as I opened my door; eyeing me suspiciously.

Discovering him to be a red-beaked hornbill, I sat for a while transfixed as he and his seven rather large and beady-eyed buddies flapped and flew and strutted and squawked around the house for half an hour. Joining them were my antagonistic little swallow-pals, plus two new kids on the block – the ant-lover twins.

These two chaps took up residence on the balcony about a week ago; regularly flying up to the ceiling for a munch of some of the little brown ants. I had one in my room the other day – a little alarming for both bird and I, but obviously a product of the incredible bird feast that has been steadily growing chez-Musson for the last two months (the ant population in my room now reaching a small colony!). So, nervous as I was to have him share my boudoir for a while, I was pleased to see him nibble his way through a few little anty friends before he flapped his way out.

It’s amazing how nature dictates so much. The rains came, hence the big ants come. The big ants come, hence the little ants depart. The little ants depart, hence the birds feast. The birds feast and…well, I don’t know what’s coming next. Here’s hoping it’s not a giant bird-eating lion. Though that would be a cool sight to see when I drew the curtains in the morning!

Speaking of cool sights, I had another little visitor in my room last week – a giant bee. It came to stay one night when I was asleep (or rather it had buzzed its way in during the day when I wasn’t looking, and woke up again during the witching hour). Sadly my nocturnal attempts to shoo it out of the room back into the air failed miserably (poor thing thought I was trying to kill it), so I left him buzzing merrily (or so I thought) around the ceiling. Sadly, the next morning, he was no more; demise by boredom maybe, I don’t know. But it warranted a closer inspection by Musson-Attenborough, and I was fascinated to see just what he looked like close up.

Photographed on my book, for a snip of perspective, I reckon he looks more like some sort of warrior ant-eater than a common-garden bee, but what do I know about African wildlife?!

Apart from some successful snooping into the fascinating world co-existing around me, I have had a week of mixed success. I’ve spent more time up at the Good Hope Orphanage, and have sadly discovered many alarming, troubling, frustrating and depressing facts about the place. Having got to know Mama Flora very well, I’ve put great faith in her kindness and her care of the sixty children living there. However, it is after spending many hours with the “director”, Mr Elisante, that I feel forlorn and a little lost. I will enlighten more next time; too depressing to go into detail about today; especially when writing about such happy events as the evacuation of the ants! Let’s just say that corruption is rife, trust is sadly lost and I have come away with new anxieties about the impact of global aid. More next time.

I have, fortunately, had two great afternoons at St Jude’s with the Form Five however. In a bid to impart as much practical wisdom as I can before I leave, I arranged to run a few after school sessions for the Sixth Form on various life-skills that they asked for advice on. Time Management skills and Applying for Jobs/Interview Practice were the sessions for this week; and once again I found myself loving the energy, insight and aspirations of this remarkable bunch of kids.

Wednesday was the 1^st May, which is celebrated as Workers’ Day here in Tanzania. I was fortunate enough to be in Arusha early Wednesday morning, and got to see the spectacle that was the Workers’ Day parade. Armed with trumpets, drums, smiles and some rocking moves, the procession danced its way through town, lasting a good three hours.

Collectives from all works of working life: armed guards, safari guides, driving school instructors, gin-makers, seamstresses and farmers rallied together to present a cacophony of eclectic sounds, colours and rhythmic dancing. What a jolly way to start the day!

To finish the week, I escaped for a few days to Moshi, a nearby town. Nestled in the foothills of Kilimanjaro, this bustling little market town is a breath of fresh air when compared to the rather hassle-full Arusha. 

Small in size, it has a great heart, with frantic markets, cheery people, tree lined streets and endless views of the surrounding mountain-king, Mount Kilimanjaro. 

Well, when the sky isn’t full of rain clouds that is! I’m told the view from where I was staying looks out onto the mighty Kili with all its snow-capped glory. But for me the view was a little cloudy, bringing memories of views from home rather than of mighty Tanzanian mountains!

Still, not one to let a little rain stand in the way of a good time, I’ve had a great few days exploring the delights this little town has to offer. Walking the streets, I’ve discovered some wonderful people and some classic little Moshi gems, such as:

The Friendship Café

where little elephant murals nestled in between the banana trees;

The Teacher Shop:

where you seem to be able to buy nothing but Pepsi, newspapers and services of lovely gentlemen with sewing machines (maybe the classic kit for the ultimate teacher? Who knows!)

One of my favourite finds in Moshi? The Town Swagga Barber shop.

I didn’t see anyone emerge with anything of a Moshi-swagger, but there were some nifty looking haircuts on a few heads around town that I'm darn sure came from Mr Swag.

Moshi is one of Tanzania’s major coffee-growing regions, and a visitor base for climbs of Kilimanjaro, being so close. As it is rainy season, the skies were heavy and each day proved a downpour of Africa's finest, strongest rain. Yet when the rainbows came, the streets were empty, giving Moshi a very refreshing feel to it and, in turn, giving me a few lovely days of calm.
Calm before the next storm – and who knows (after dragonflies, mega ants and an army of red-beaked hornbills) what will come flying in on the breeze this week!